


Gifts

by artefact_storage



Series: Dragon!Jon [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Gen, Making Friends, Softness, Timothy Stoker's conspiracy theory habit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 14:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20996102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artefact_storage/pseuds/artefact_storage
Summary: Martin has been bringing things to the Archival dragon. Little things -- it's not like he has the money to spare to be buying gifts for dragons, honestly -- but things that are a little more respectable than whatever it can dig out of the bins.(This is just the first entry in a shared AU generated by the Artefact Storage Discord crew in which Jonathan Sims is both the Archivist and a small dragon who nests in the Archives. His assistants don't know it yet.)





	Gifts

The Archival dragon has made a nest in the overflow shelving that just happens to be above Martin's desk. It's made up mostly of scraps of paper and old post-it notes that one or the other of the archival assistants had thrown away, accented with the sorts of shiny things that were more like what Martin would have expected in a dragon's nest: loose change, foil wrappers, paper clips, unusually colored pens (many of the last stolen directly from Martin's desk). It's a little -- well, it's a little sad, honestly. Sure, the Archival dragon is small, which probably means it's very young and hasn't had time to build up one of those really impressive dragon hoards you hear about, but it's still a little depressing to see a dragon nestling up in bits of office detritus.

And, well, Martin has always been a soft touch, it's something his mum complains about all the time. So he's been bringing it things. Little things -- it's not like he has the money to spare to be buying gifts for dragons, honestly -- but things that are a little more respectable than whatever it can dig out of the bins. It had turned up its nose at a range of children's toys but enthusiastically accepted a glittering rhinestone broach from the charity shop. Mostly, though, it really does seem to like office supplies, and Martin can justify it to himself by saying that he needs something to liven up the atmosphere of the place. The Archives can get pretty grim sometimes.

So when he pulls a paper packet out of his bag, the dragon is technically still in its nest, but its long neck is stretched out and its chin hooked on the edge of the shelf to watch Martin intently. He pretends to ignore it while he opens up the package and slices open the tape seal with the edge of a ragged thumbnail, then fishes out a couple of the items inside and holds them up on his palm. "Would you like one?" Martin asks politely. (He's learned from hard experience and once a sharp nip that it likes to be talked to like an intelligent creature, not cooed over.)

The dragon moves closer, hooking its claws onto the edge of the shelf and pulling the rest of its body over to meet its head, then reaching down, nose first and then forepaws. Hands, really, like a raccoon's, which is too adorable for words, but Martin restrains himself, lifts his palm a little higher so the dragon doesn't lose its balance. It has wings, but Martin's never seen it fly, and he doesn't want to be responsible for an accident.

It plucks one of them from his hand very delicately, just the tiniest brush of claws against his palm making Martin shiver, and turns the object over and over, inspecting it. It's a paperclip shaped like an elephant, the trunk curling back around its body to form the inner prong. Martin's been longing after them for a while now, but it's hard to justify buying yourself office supplies when you could just use the box of thoroughly boring but serviceable paper clips from the copy room. This, though, makes it worth it: the dragon inspecting the shape of it, useful _and_ creative, before it gives a little pleased chirp and clutches the paperclip to its breast. Then, after a moment, it reaches out and takes the second one from Martin's hand, too, before retreating to its nest.

Martin can't suppress a smile, though he tries very hard to keep it out of his voice. "Let me know if you want any more. They've got different animals, too," he adds casually. There's a muffled noise from the dragon's nest that sounds like enthusiasm. Martin tucks the box of paperclips into his desk drawer. He'll have to be careful about where he uses them; he can't imagine his boss would approve of novelty paperclips, and he doesn't need the lecture about professionalism.

"I don't know why you're so nice to that thing," Tim says from his desk on the other side of their small office, eyeing the dragon warily. "I don't trust it."

"It's a dragon," Martin says, as if that's a defense. "And it's just a little one, it's not going to _hurt_ anybody."

"Gave me frostbite last week," Tim grumbles, shuffling through a stack of business cards. The dragon makes a smug little purring noise that Martin is fairly certain Tim can't hear from that far away.

"You shouldn't have tried to pick it up," he says mildly. "It doesn't like that."

Tim snorts. "I've noticed." Then he looks up at Martin, eyes agleam. "You know what else I've noticed?"

Martin suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. "You're going to tell me whether I want you to or not, aren't you?"

"Yep! Here's the thing, though -- have you ever seen it in the same room as Jon?"

Martin can feel the color rising in his cheeks, like it always does when the subject of Jonathan Sims comes up. It's awful, having a crush on your boss, it's a terrible cliche and Jon isn't even _nice_, but he can't stop blushing anyway. At least Tim is civilized enough not to mention it any more. "What, so it doesn't like Jon either? That's not surprising, most people don't." He's pretty sure his ears are burning hot enough to set his hair on fire.

"Maybe," Tim says. "Maybe. But I think -- " and here he leans over in his chair, tipping it onto two legs to get that little bit closer -- "I think Jon's a dragon, and this little guy knows better than to push his luck." At Martin's skeptical look Tim spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. "It makes sense!"

"You think Jon is secretly a dragon," Martin says. He notices absently that the happy noises from the dragon's nest have stopped. "I mean, he does have the temper for it -- but come _on_, do you really think that's something you can hide? Wouldn't Elias know?"

Tim waves his objections aside with one dramatic hand. "Elias is probably in on it, who knows why he does anything, honestly. Nope, I'm calling it right now. Jon. Dragon."

"You're ridiculous," Martin says, and tries to focus on figuring out what he can work on today that isn't following up on the Timothy Hodge file. He really, really doesn't want to follow up on the Timothy Hodge file.

"I'm also right," Tim says, because he has to have the last word.

From the shelf above his shoulder, Martin hears a tiny snort of disgust, and he smiles.


End file.
